


A Friend in Need

by SmugBeverage



Category: Zootopia
Genre: Comfort, Gen, care, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 18:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15668412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmugBeverage/pseuds/SmugBeverage
Summary: Chris is frighteningly sick, and all he really wants to do is crawl in a hole and die. That, or sleep for the next month. Lucky for him, his best friend Maria takes issue with that plan, and even his incredibly tiny apartment can't stop her from helping him get better.





	A Friend in Need

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ComfyAnon](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ComfyAnon).



_Thud thud thud_

A bundle of covers shifted on a bed at the noise that invaded the room. The bundle groaned as it slowly began to rise, only to shudder as it was wracked with a series of harsh, violent coughs that trailed off into a whimper, followed by a raspy breath. It perked up when another series of impacts reverberated through the room, and the bundle looked around bearily for the source of the noise. It swiveled back and forth, but when no more sound was forthcoming, it slowly began to droop lower and lower.

It was shocked back into alertness at a third wave of pounding, and made an irritable noise. With great reluctance, the bundle forced itself up and off the bed; the blanket fell back to reveal a groggy pine marten, who whined a bit as his paw pads came into contact with the cold floor. The small mammal dragged the blanket with him like a cloak, wrapping it around himself to ward off the chill of his apartment. He made his way to the front door, eyes narrowed like he was trudging through a blizzard, and rapidly undid the locks before flinging the door open in frustration. The sun was bright, and he brought a paw up to block it out, and get a better look at the huge figure shadowing his doorstep.

“Wow--Chris, you look like shit. What happened?”

Chris blinked a few times, and craned his neck back as his vision adjusted. He _knew_ that voice. “M-Maria?”

The large shadow hunched over, and he was able to make out the concerned expression on the grey wolf. “Wow, you _sound_ like shit, too. Are you alright?”

“What’re you--” the marten started, but was cut off by a rapid flurry of coughs. He leaned heavily against the doorframe as he hacked and sputtered; all the while, Maria shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. As he trailed off, he stopped to catch his breath and swallowed--clutching at his his burning throat with one paw--and continued. “--what’re you doin’ here?”

Maria showed him a phone--one that would require him to use both paws to operate--opened to a series of texts. “You said you’d caught a nasty cold, so I came to drop some stuff off for you. Though, it looks like it’s a little worse than that.”

“What stuff?”

“Are you gonna let me in?”

“I don’t wanna get you sick.”

“You’re not even a canid, you aren’t gonna get me sick,” the timber wolf asserted. “If whatever you’ve got is jumping the species barrier we’ve got more to worry about than some sniffles.”

“It’s pretty messy,” Chris deflected.

“So’s my place, you’ve never minded.”

The marten sighed. “You always complain about how you gotta hunch over in here.”

Maria put her paws on her hips. “Then I’ll keep my mouth shut this time! Can I come in, or not?”

“Alright! Alright,” Chris relented. He stepped aside and waved his paw towards the inside. “Make yourself at home.”

Maria stooped down low to clear the doorway, but even once inside she couldn’t rise to her full height and remained hunched over. She made her way deeper into his apartment, trying not to bump her head against anything. “I’ll stick this stuff on your counter.”

Chris closed the door behind her, sinking deeper into his blanket to hide from the biting cold outside as it seemed to cut straight through his fur--and to hide his unkempt clothes and bedraggled fur. “What stuff?”

“Well, when you said you had a cold I figured I’d pick you up something nice and hot, so I got you coffee, and some orange chicken from one of those cool mom and pop places.”

Maria didn’t see it, but the smaller mammal’s ears perked up in an instant. “Orange chicken?”

“I know, it’s not exactly _stay at home sick_ food,” she said, sheepishly lifting the bag. “But I didn’t think you’d be as bad as you are.”

“No, no,” he assured; his voice was rough, and it hurt a little to speak. It probably sounded more like he was croaking than speaking. “That sounds great, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Chris said, his tail wagging a little as he chased after the larger mammal, a dash of energy back in his stride and determination in his shoulders.

Maria smiled, her own tail giving some happy flicks. “Well, as long as you like it. I’ve got some chopsticks here, somewhere.”

The pine marten made a face, and yanked open a drawer. “Maybe if I wasn’t sleepy and sick,” he said as he pulled out a fork. He popped open the container and filled his nostrils with the steam and aroma of his meal. The large wolf smiled down at him at he basked in the scent of his food. Spearing a piece of chicken, Chris wasted no time in chomping down, making a happy noise as he chewed. He was oblivious to Maria’s amusement as he savored the meat, though he did grimace a bit when his throat protested him swallowing.

“Something wrong?” The wolf asked.

“No,” the marten replied, testing the coffee with a small sip. “My throat just hurts.”

Maria blinked and pulled back a bit. “You’ve got a sore throat?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Chris protested.

“Mm-hmm,” The larger mammal hummed in disbelief. She reached over and ran a thumb down his neck, then brought her muzzle in close.

“Wh-whoa, what--”

“Shh,” she interrupted, and nestled her nose into the fur on his forehead. He let out a surprised huff at the sudden sensation of a cold nose against his skin. “You’re burning up.”

“Coulda fooled me,” he grumbled, half to himself. “I’m freezing.”

Maria’s gazed down at the small, miserable mammal, and knelt down to him. Gesturing to the food on the counter, she spoke, her tone just a touch gentler. “Finish what you can. It’s not the healthiest but should warm you up, and you need some food in you.”

Chris smiled and nodded as he speared another piece of chicken, while Maria moved into the living room and started rummaging through her bag. Chris kept an ear tilted in her direction, curious about what she was doing, but continued his slow, steady pace through his meal. The coffee wasn’t exactly medicinal, but the heat helped soothe his throat and warmed him up some.

“Hey, d’you remember your wi-fi password?” Maria asked as she turned on his television.

“Uhh. It’s on a note under the modem. Why?”

“Just setting something up.”

“Need some help?”

“No, no,” Maria waved him off. “I can do it.”

“Uhhh.”

“Finish your food, Chris.”

The small predator followed her instructions, chasing bites of chicken with sips of coffee to alleviate the stinging, but kept his eyes on her as she pulled out a small bundle of plugs and narrowed her eyes, trying to match one of the cords with a port on the TV. She picked one out, holding it gingerly between her claws, and stuck her tongue out as she tried to line up the small mammal plug with the small mammal port using her very big mammal paws. She fumbled more than once, muttering curses every time.

“Do you need--”

“No, I’ve got this,” she said with an undercurrent of a growl.

Chris fiddled with his food a little nervously as he continued to observe the wolf lifting the plugs higher to get a good look at them in the light, huffing with impatience. He took slower bites, hearing a number of plugs clatter against the television.

“You Smalls, I swear,” she mumbled.

“Um--”

“Got it!” Maria crowed, though her jubilation was short-lived when she realized she needed to change the channel with an equally small remote. She held it between two fingers and eyed it with distaste; Chris snorted in amusement, and the irritated look shifted to him. He held up his paws in a gesture of surrender before folding the box of his food closed and draining the last of his coffee.

After putting his leftovers in the fridge, Chris meandered back into the living room where the grey wolf was seated on the floor, struggling with his tiny remote. He hopped onto the couch and held out his paw; Maria handed it over with reluctance. “What channel?”

“Scroll through the inputs.”

With a few clicks, they flipped through the different sources available, until they landed on a menu that Chris didn’t recognize. His ears flared out in surprise, and he looked at the different options available, with Ewetube and Nutflix being the most noticeable. “What’s this?”

“It’s a little box I picked up that lets you get into all those TV streaming sites through your TV.”

“Couldn’t you just use your computer for that?”

“Yeah, but I actually use my computer.”

Chris chuckled. “Fair,” he rasped, as Maria opened Nutflix and started scrolling through the new arrivals.

“Any preferences?” She asked.

“Not really. Prob’ly just fall asleep halfway through anyway.”

A smile spread across Maria’s muzzle. “Good! In that case…” She leaned back against the couch, wrapped an arm around Chris, and popped on an almost-documentary show about how the various products in Zootopia met the demands of so many different species.

“I love stuff like this,” Maria commented. “All the work that goes into making the city possible, and all that.”

The voice speaking over all of the different production shots in the show wasn’t soothing, exactly, but it was measured and smooth and before long was being heard by Chris more than being understood. He found himself leaning against the sturdy mammal next to him, the television little more than white noise. He felt her jerk a little, inhale, even tense a little.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, moving his paw so he could muster the energy to get back up.

He could feel the wolf relax. “Don’t be,” she soothed. Her arm loosened, and her upper body moved just a little bit closer to him. She was still on the floor, as his couch wasn’t made for mammals her size, but she seemed perfectly happy stretching across his floor and leaning into the sofa. “Is it weird for you?”

To the pine marten, it sort of was--but the larger mammal was so soft, and so warm, that he couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. “Nah.”

“I’m glad.”

He let his paw slide back down and flop between them. “Hey,” he mumbled. “How’re your classes going?”

“They’re alright,” she replied. Chris could feel her voice as she spoke, rumbling in her throat and reverberating pleasantly through where they were touching. “Still got a professor who’s a germaphobe, got a paper or two I’m mostly done with. Pretty much the same as usual. You?”

Chris took a deep breath before he replied; speaking seemed like such a monumental task, all of a sudden. “Same old.”

“Same old? That’s all?”

“Hopin’ you’d talk more.”

“Oh--right,” Maria sounded a little sheepish at her realization. “Sick.”

“Mm,” Chris replied.

“G’head and zonk out if you need to, Chris. I don’t mind.”

“Mmkay,” the small mammal said. He let his heavy eyelids droop all the way down, and curled up with the heavenly warmth next to him, and drifted off to the comforting white noise of deep breathing, and narrator explaining the miniaturization of technology for rodents.

**< \--->**

When Chris awoke, it was darker, and he was _freezing._ He uncurled from beneath his blanket, shivering hard enough to make his teeth chatter. His throat screamed, feeling as though it was emanating a dry and scratchy heat; it came as a surprise when his breath didn’t fog in the air. He was still a little sleepy, though more than that he was _tired._ His body was exhausted. It felt as though his limbs were being weighed down, like he’d just finished a grueling hike, only more intense.

On the television, Nutflix had fallen idle, asking “Are you still there?” Maria was nowhere to be found, the apartment quiet. He got to his feet, slowly, and let the blanket fall. He shivered again, his ears angling around to catch any hint of life, but was met with nothing.

Chris shuffled to the bathroom, his breaths irregular as his body shook, practically vibrating as it tried to warm itself. He flicked the sink on, full blast, and gathered some water in his paws. Bringing it to his snout, he drained it into his mouth, closing his eyes in relief as the cold water slid down his throat. Swallowing was still painful, though the cool water seemed to quench at least some measure of the heat that seemed to be radiating from the inside out. It didn’t do much for his body temperature, however, so after a few more drinks he switched taps and waited for it to heat up. While he waited, he looked at himself in the mirror; his eyes were bloodshot, his fur was disheveled, his skin seemed to hang loose on the bones, and his ears had no life whatsoever. Even just getting to the bathroom had taken a disproportionate amount out of him, and he let his head hang low, exhausted and breathing heavily.

When steam started rising from the sink, he splashed his paws into it, then combed them through his fur. The warm water on his skin was heavenly, and the shaking subsided somewhat as he breathed in the steam and brushed his fur out. His paws were still trembling, and he couldn’t manage a smooth drag from front to back, his fingers squeezing together and pinching small tufts of fur seemingly at random. In the end, his fur was pointing in bizarre directions, and he was seriously debating a scaldingly hot shower when he heard his front door open and close. Suddenly (somewhat) alert, he shut off the sink and listened with mounting nervousness.

Heavy, loud footfalls, followed by the crinkle of some plastic, some sniffing--and then a voice. “Chris?”

“Oh,” he croaked, and worked his way out the bathroom, coming to a stop in front of his guest in all his glory. “Maria. Thought you left.”

“No, I mean yeah, but I just--oh, _dude,_ ” Maria stopped short in surprise while rummaging through a bag, and took him in. His fur was still a little damp, fur wild with his haphazard attempt at grooming, and he was drawn in on himself--cold, shivering, rasping for breath, and _fragile._

“It got worse,” he said.

“Aw, dude,” she repeated, much softer. The wolf stepped forward and raised a paw, then pulled it back as if hesitating. She bit her lip in a moment of consideration, then turned away--snatching the blanket from the sofa and wrapping it around him. She tucked it in close, carefully, then effortlessly lifted him into one arm, rubbing him gently. It wasn’t the first time she’d picked him up--not by a long shot--though it _was_ the first time she’d picked up him with the sole intent of bringing him closer.  It was more intimate than he was used to; but his chest ached, his joints were sore, his throat was torture, and he was just so _tired._

“Tired,” he stated.

“You wanna lay down?”

“Not so sleepy. Just tired, ‘n’ _cold._ ” His tone was tired, whisper-thin. He surrendered to the wolf’s hold, breathing a small sigh of relief.

“Oh--I’ve got just the thing, then!” she said, her eyes bright with realization. With her free arm, the wolf dug into the plastic bag she’d brought with her, and happily pulled out a number of items. A box of broth, some pasta, a few vegetables--everything needed for a meal. More than one, actually, if it was Chris eating. She gestured to the lineup with pride. “ _Boom._ ”

“Can you even cook?” Chris asked from his perch.

“Wow, excuse you,” Maria shot back without any bite. “I’ll have you know, my mom basically wouldn’t let us move out until we knew how to make this. She thought that home cooking was most important when you’re sick, and when you’re on your own the only one who’s gonna cook when you’re sick is you. We’re about to prove her wrong--lucky you.”

“Homemade chicken noodle?”

“You got it.”

Chris rasped out a chuckle, which trailed off into a couple of dry coughs. “Cliché.”

The larger mammal sniffed a little imperiously. “Chicken noodle is sick food for a _reason._ ”

The pine marten let out a cough. “Do tell.”

Maria rummaged through his kitchen cupboards for a few moments before answering, dragging out a cutting board that was comically undersized for her stature. She grabbed a knife from his block--one that didn’t even require her full paw to use--and sat on her knees so she could start cutting up some carrot, green onions, and a little celery. It was slow, at first. “Well--it’s hot, for one, so you don’t need a big warm predator to keep you from freezing to death.”

“But what if that sounds nice?”

“Shush,” she chided, and continued, the snapping of the knife smoothing out--more rhythmic.  “The chicken is a good source of protein for us--and before you say anything about orange chicken, that doesn’t go down as easy as soup.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Maria sectioned off the vegetables into portions and dug around his kitchen some more for a set of pots. Each one received one of the portions of veggies and was filled with broth. The wolf leaned down to the dials for the burners, checking each one closely before she kicked them on. “The vegetables are a good source of vitamins, and it’s salty enough to help make up for what you lose. Also, the salt content helps keep your throat’s swelling under control.”

“ _Oh,_ ” the pine marten smiled. The broth started to warm, filling the air with an agreeable scent that he could smell even over the larger mammal and her fur.

“Which brings us to the last thing,” Maria said confidently, and reached back into the bag. She placed a small bottle on the table, which upon closer examination turned out to be a bottle of NyQuill, the drinkable kind.

“You’re an angel,” Chris whispered reverently.

Maria laughed at that. “You should thank the guy at the counter. I nearly came back with a wolf-strength bottle, but he asked me who I was getting it for. Being sick sucks, but that’s probably not the way to go about it.”

Chris looked from the medicine, to the food as Maria tossed in more ingredients. “When’d you pick this up?”

“Not long ago. Like fifteen minutes, why?”

“Didn’t you have class today?”

“Some, yeah. I skipped out on a couple.”

“What, _no,_ ” Chris exclaimed, coughing into his arm. “You can’t let stuff pile up for me.”

“Hey, hey, don’t worry,” the wolf soothed. “I’ve got someone recording everything, and I don’t get dinged as long as I know the material. Besides, it’s a nice excuse to ditch for a while.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m where I wanna be.”

Chris didn’t know what to say to that, and was spared from having to reply when a surprise cough tightened his chest and he descended into a small fit. He didn’t know what swallowing glass was like, but imagined it felt like this; every cough felt like it was tearing the inside of his throat, and made it feel almost unbearably hot. He whined, the hot sting of tears prickling at the edge of his eyes despite himself.

The miserable pine marten couldn’t help but groan and let his head sag against the larger mammal. On top of everything else, now the coughing was starting to give him a headache. “ _Water,_ ” he moaned piteously.

“Yeah, dude, yeah,” Maria said quickly as she grabbed a glass from the counter and flicked the sink on with a single finger. She only needed two to hold the glass that she handed him, and he drank eagerly and greedily. The wolf took the glass back as he tried to catch his breath, and stirred the soup while he did.

“I just keep feeling worse,” Chris sighed quietly.

“That’s usually how it goes. Worse before better.”

“S’not fair.”

Maria chuckled. “It usually isn’t--but that’s how it works.”

“Could I get some of that medicine now?” Chris asked.

Maria grimaced. “You’re not supposed to have it on an empty stomach. Just a bit longer, honest, and the soup will help too.”

The marten’s shoulders fell, but he nodded into her sleeve, and turned his eye on the stove. “...Three pots?”

“Mmm-hmm,” the wolf hummed. “This probably isn’t a twenty-four hour bug, so you’re gonna need more than just one night’s dinner. You’ll be lucky if it isn’t strep, but either way you’ll be set for a while.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“Maybe, but just remember this next time I get sick.”

Chris made an amused sound. “I’d need to borrow a truck t’get all the stuff for your soup.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“Big boned,” he snickered.

Maria snorted. “You little shit.”

The small mammal’s shoulders shook with silent laughter as the bigger one ladled some soup out to give it a long sniff, then a small taste. With a pleased sound, she snatched up a bowl and filled it with a generous helping of hot, steaming broth. The moment it was placed in his paws, the chills that had been wracking his body seemed to vanish; he breathed in the steam, and opted to lift the bowl to his mouth and slurp some of the broth noisily rather than wait for a spoon. He swallowed slowly, gently, savoring the flavor and warmth. Even the stinging pain in his throat seemed to mostly recede as the hot soup warmed him from the very core.

God--he almost felt like a _mammal_ again.

Chris gave a drawn out, pleasured exhale. A spoon clattered into the bowl, and he looked up at Maria’s grin. “So do I know what I’m doing?”

Chris grinned at her. “Your mom does.”

Maria let out a surprised laugh. “You’re impossible to please,” she said as she carried him into the living room and settled him on the couch, tucking his blanket in tight. “Eat up; I’m gonna go save the rest.”

“Maria,” Chris said, stopping her. She glanced at him curiously, and he spoke again, looking her in the eye. “Thank you.”

She didn’t say anything, but she smiled at him, and ran a thumb delicately between his ears. The wolf walked back into the kitchen, and he heard her rooting around for what sounded like tupperware. After a few moments, he heard the soup being poured out, and the snap of a top being secured. Then, there was silence, until she spoke up. “You don’t have enough for all the soup.”

“Help me eat the rest, then.”

“I made it for you, though.”

“I’d rather eat dinner with you than let it just go to waste.”

“Huh,” Maria said, a little stumped. “Well, when you put it that way.”

There was the sound of some more pouring, then his fridge opening and closing, then finally rejoined him in the living room, stretching back out on the floor in front of the couch with a pot of leftover soup in paw. Chris’ bowls were closer to cups for her, so she filled one up and drank from it directly as she grabbed the remote and backed out to the Nutflix home screen.

“Got somethin’ in mind?” Chris asked.

“Yep, absolutely,” Maria said as she slowly typed in the search bar one letter at a time. “Surf Ninjas.”

“Oh my god, that sounds awful. I love it.”

“Right?” Maria’s eyes brightened as she leaned back and wrapped a careful arm around her small friend. “It’s about some surfer kids who get attacked by ninjas and learn they’re princes so they gotta save their homeland. Also it had more star power than it deserved, but you’ll see for yourself. We’ll save the stuff we can _really_ rip on for when I’m sure you’ll be awake for it all.”

For the next hour and a half, they watched a trio of actors, two of which were far too old to even be pretending to be painfully 90s teenagers (“ _Rob Moschider, are you serious? How old was he!?”) (“Thirty, I think,”)_ fight a cyborg dictator ( _“Lincely Nielsen, you belong in far better movies than this,”_ ) to save a country that didn’t really exist. By the time the credits rolled, the soup was gone--though Maria had insisted he take some seconds--and Chris was in a far better mood. The food (and, more importantly, the laughter) had done wonders.

“I can’t believe they were in the same movie together at any point,” Chris laughed.

“I told you--the princess ended up being Deathstrike in the X-Mammals movies, too,” Maria said, setting the bottle of medicine on the coffee table and cracking it open. She squinted at the directions, then sighed and passed the bottle over to the marten. “Like I said, more star power than it deserved, even if they weren’t all actually stars yet.”

“I mean, I guess it’s the kind of goofy movie they’d both be in, but...together? Nah.” Chris poured the syrupy mix into the small plastic cup it came with, and was about to toss it back when Maria stopped him.

“Oh, wait! The guy at the counter said you should take a dose and a half.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “What, why? It’s made for mammals my size.”

“Right, but you’ve got a longer neck than most mammals your size so you need to take a little more. Just a tubedude thing, I guess.”

“Oh,” the marten blinked, and measured more into the cup. “That makes sense.” He downed it all in one go--or tried to, as it was thick enough that he had to wait for some of it to dribble in. When he got most of it, he snapped his head down with a noise of disgust.

Maria laughed at him. “It’s not that bad.”

“Their grape doesn’t taste like grape at all!”

“Well, rinse out a bit. But just swish, don’t swallow, you don’t wanna wash it out of your throat right away. Probably shouldn’t even gargle.”

Chris padded into the kitchen and filled a glass a little forcefully, nearly throwing it into his mouth and swirling it around with a vengeance before spitting it into the sink noisily. He went back to the living room and hopped on the couch, curling right back up in the crook of Maria’s arm. “ _Tubedude?_ ”

The wolf looked at him with humor in her eyes. “What? That’s what you are.”

“That’s a thing?”

“Haha, what? Of course. It’s pretty common, actually. You’ve never heard it?”

“No, never.”

Maria snickered. “Well, that’s what you guys are. Fuzzy lil’ tubes with legs.”

The marten stuck a lip out in a mock pout. “Well what’re the girls called?”

“Still tubedudes, I think.”

“But they’re not dudes.”

“Dude’s unisex, you gotta catch up with the times.”

“I’m an undergrad, I don’t have time for the times.”

The wolf laughed, deep and full, rocking Chris back and forth gently. “No, you’re right, I suppose you don’t.”

Chris nudged her with his snout and gestured to the screen. “What’ve you got next?”

“Oh, I heard about this cool animated show about a white fox goin’ around solving supernatural stuff. It’s supposed to be a pretty relaxed show, nice music.”

“That sounds cool. Pop it on.”

Maria hit play and settled in. Sure enough, the music was relaxing with things like chimes and flutes, the animation was smooth and unhurried, and the dialogue was calm, conversational. By the end of the first episode, Chris was leaning into Maria’s neck. By the end of the third, her arm was curled affectionately around him, and she had wrapped around him somewhat. By the end of the fifth, the marten had given up the fight against the illness and medicine and had drifted off into a comfortable slumber.

Maria looked down at the smaller mammal, nestled comfortably against her, sleeping quietly. She reached out for her phone on the table and set an alarm for the morning a little awkwardly with her left paw; turning back to Chris, she leaned down and planted a kiss, feather-light, between his ears, and nuzzled him gently, then made herself as comfortable as she could without jostling him.

Her classes didn’t start until late tomorrow anyway, and she was making him sleepy.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm now on tumblr! You can find me at https://smugbeverage.tumblr.com/, where I post the fruits of all of my writing challenges, as well as screenshots from Disney Heroes: Battle Mode. I play it so you don't have to! Take a look.


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